Friday, May 22, 2009


Had my second visit with my new therapist today. I haven't mentioned her yet because our visits were unremarkable. Last week was our first meeting so it was a get to know you kinda thing. However, instead of asking questions about me, she asked what I thought were far too many questions about my family. This week I filled her in on the ex since I finally go before the judge this coming Thursday.

I haven't really formed much of an impression of the woman yet. She's kinda...blah. Not once has she offered up anything that even felt like, well, therapy. Hasn't provided any feedback other than recommending I talk to my pdoc about how I'm not sleeping. She just asks questions and they seem to come from a place of obligation because I was assigned to her rather than from a desire to actually help me.

After I got home from my appointment, I made the executive decision to go off all my meds, except maybe a small dose of Seroquel. There is a pervasive feeling of having been chemically bleached again and I can't stand it. I need to feel something, anything and the meds are preventing that from happening. The only thing I feel is blank. That's the only word to describe it...blank. There's nothing there. I can't even conjure up an emotion because right now none exist within me.

I know it's a huge gamble for me to do this, but I think it's a necessary action that I have to take. A person can't exist without emotions and I'd rather risk feeling depressed again than to go another day feeling absolutely nothing.


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